Tag Archives: sleep

Sabotage

My last post was about what a great dad John is and, while that is still true, the gushing over my husband is starting to make my eyes roll. So today my John story is less about greatness and more about sabotage.

Sorry Honey.

I had yet to fall asleep when Clara woke up crying and wanting someone to “nuggle” with her. I got up to find Clara trying to leave her room, scooped her up and tucked her back into her bed.

She was not satisfied.

Clara explained that she wanted to sleep in my bed. I, disliking the idea of stolen pillows and tickley hair up my nose for the rest of the night, asked why. Well…  She wanted to sleep in my bed because my blankets were better, and my pillows were nicer. Clara didn’t like her room that night and her bed was not “comfy!“  Starting to be sorry I asked, I laid down next to her to snuggle and I pointed out how nice and comfortable her bed was. I showed her how soft her blankets were, and admired her new pillow case on her pillow. Clara, completely unconvinced, just hauled herself out of bed, picked up her water bottle and waded through a sea of stuffed animals as she headed out her door. By the time I caught up to her there she was explaining to John that she was coming to sleep with him because his bed was nicer.  John responded, “Yeah, it is, isn’t it.” as he rolled over and fell back asleep.

Sabotage.

Having had all my arguments nullified by Johns one sleepy comment I looked down at Clara happily tucked under my down comforter with her head on my pillow and got a bit huffy. I decided that I would sleep in Clara’s bed, that way I wouldn’t have to fight for bed space or deal with anymore crying and I could just go to sleep.

So I did, and I discovered something.

Her blankets are not as nice as mine, her pillows are awful, and while I find her bed to be very comfy she has a ticking clock just above it that is truly terrible to sleep under.

Clara sleeping

Clara sleeping with different blankets in a rearranged room – still have to work on that pillow though!

Sorry Clara!

Being the Dad

I’ve always thought that being a dad seemed like a good gig. As in my original post on the matter (Mother’s Day) I could elaborate on that but, out of respect for those dad’s who read this, I won’t.

John has always been a great dad. And while his daughters all love him and love doing things with him, lately something very interesting has been happening between him and his youngest girl.John and Jane confused

When John leaves Jane cries or frantically waves goodbye over and over and over again.

When he returns Jane rushes to greet him as soon as she hears his voice.

If I’m carrying Jane through the house she will attempt to leap from my arms to his as we pass.

When John puts her to bed he sings her to sleep and she cuddles in and falls asleep in his arms in a way that she never does for me.

Recently Jane was having a bad night, a double ear infection kind of a bad night, and I had been up rocking her and singing to her and while she was settled down in my lap she wasn’t happy and she wasn’t sleeping. After awhile John came in the room to check on us, (added proof of great dad-idness). Jane crawled off my lap, crawled across the floor and pulled on his pants until he picked her up where she snuggled right into his shoulder.

Clearly I had been dismissed.

I crawled back into my own bed as I thought to myself “So, this is what it’s like to be the dad? Yup, I was right, it’s awesome!” and smiled as I fell back asleep.

Our Internet is Like A Tired One Year Old

Lately our internet service has been acting like a one year old who dropped her morning nap.

Sometimes it’s all giggles and grins…Jane in highchair

… and sometimes it can’t make it through lunch.lunch time nap

Perhaps one day we’ll have reliable internet at home but until then I ask you, to once again, forgive the spotty posting and poor e-mailing – we’ll get it figured out eventually!

The Nap Monster

One minute there I was lining up an afternoon of cooking and preserving and the next -wham!- the Nap Monster got me and I was out for a time better measured in hours than in minutes.
These attacks have become a reoccurring issue. You see the problem is that I have a tendency to travel deep into nap monster habitat, completely unprepared for attack. After lunch, I take Jane and we lay down in my bed together to nurse her before nap time: it’s warm, it’s cuddly, it’s the afternoon, it’s Nap Monster habitat if I’ve ever heard it.  And my packing for this trip through Nap Monster habitat – it never helps. I’m just not prepared to fend off the Nap Monster with the supplies I bring for my trip. In fact I can’t think of a single instance where my book, my pillow, my sweat pants and a nice big blanket ever really helped me hide from the Nap Monster.

The trouble is that I unabashedly love the naps.  Afternoon naps with a baby have been my favorite since I discovered them in 2007 and I’m afraid the number of available opportunities is dwindling. In fact next time Jane and I dive into Nap Monster habitat I might just give him a big “Hallooo” and let him know I’m coming – just so I don’t let another opportunity pass me by.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Near and Far

Weekly Photo Challenge: Near and Far

Near, Far… it’s all relative, right?

This is Jane sleeping on the far side of the room looking though the keyhole in the door near the camera…

Near and far, yes?

Yes.

Thanks for coming with me on that one.

And I know what you are thinking.

You are thinking this would be so much better with a bit of Jane’s face.

It wasn’t.

Curled sleeping baby hands in sunlight – good.

Parts of sleeping baby face through crib bars – surprisingly creepy.

Crib bars are not good for the complexion.

You can see a few more Near and Far keyhole pictures (arguably more interesting ones since they involve things like faces) I’ve taken in the past in Good News… Bad News… and Sweet Sisters.

Dear Jane

Dear Jane,

You just turned seven months old and have discovered that the world is a big place, full of things that need to be explored and tasted. You haven’t yet mastered crawling exactly where you want but you can roll, and wiggle your way backwards and around in all sorts of circles. Despite everyone telling me that I’ll regret it I keep encouraging you to crawl. You are so interested in everything, too busy to even eat when we visit new places or when things are going on around you and you are so close to crawling!  You get up on those knees and rock back and forth – soon, very soon you’ll get to where you want to go.  I’m sure the dogs water bowl is top on your list after discovering how fun it was the other day and I’m prepared to clean up the water spill at least a half a dozen times before it starts to drive me nuts, but here is the thing. Right now you are teething and still getting over the end of a nasty virus. So, when you are almost asleep you don’t need to reach out and touch the wall/chair/book/bed/door you can just relax, they will all be there when you wake up.   And when your little body hits the bed it’s not necessary to roll onto your belly and pop up on your knees like a funny little jack-in-the-box. You are so very cute smiling away, showing me once again how close you are to figuring it all out but right now you need your sleep and there will be more time when the sun comes up to try again. I promise.

Love,

Your Mom

My Kindly Torturer

Early in the morning my kindly torturer sneaks into my bed and snuggles in beside me as I drift back to sleep.

Then she rolls over, and sighs.

Then she kindly covers me with half of her nasty, soggy, stinky, chewed on blanket.

Then she wiggles.

Then she gently rubs my back.

Then she sighs and traces the line of my pajama top ever so gently.

Then she rubs my foot.

Then she traces the letters on my pajamas with her finger.

Then she cuddles in next to me.

She never says a word, she’s very quite, very gentle, very kind.

When I give in and open my eyes and say good morning she gives me a hug and says she loves me,  I return the sentiment.

But the kind, gentle, loss of that last hour of sleep is so painful.

Keeping my mouth shut so as not to scream:  “STOP TOUCHING ME! GET OUT OF MY BED! I’M SLEEPING!” requires so much will power.

Not crushing her spirit as I throw her from the room requires so much effort from my sleepy brain.

Then I start the day swinging between guilty feelings about my decidedly unkind thoughts about my kind daughter and feeling completly justified in my irritation that my day started out with a bit of torture.

There is something magic about that last hour of sleep. Go ahead interrupt me every hour all night, pee in your bed causing me to change it at three AM, cry, whine, throw up, anything, all night, whatever, whenever.

Just please, please let me sleep that last hour.

Please?!?

A Miracle of Motherhood

It’s said that motherhood is full of life changing miracles.

And it is, I know because as a kid I often woke up on the floor.

I fell out of bed in my sleep.

I also woke up upside down, sideways, tangled in blankets, without blankets, or huddling under a pillow because the blankets had disappeared from the bed or not followed me onto the floor. On camping trips my family would put me on the end of the tent next to my Dad to me to keep me in my corner.

I still woke up along everyone’s feet.

In fact it wasn’t until I got married that I finally ended up facing the right way every morning. Of course John and I plus a cat, and often a dog leaves very little room to wiggle much less thrash. (Did I mention we have a full sized bed, that Piper used to share with us? I was stuck!) While I have not woken up on the floor for many years neither have I manged to outgrow my tendency to thrash and move around all night stealing blankets in the process.

Enter motherhood.

Now I can lay down in bed next to an infant, do a lot of rustling to arrange us both just right, fall asleep and wake up hours (sometimes even four!) later in exactly the same position.

Exactly the same position.

I don’t even steal her blanket.

It’s a miracle of motherhood if I’ve ever heard one.

How to Become a Millionaire

All you have to do is invent The Baby Timer.

A little device that sits next to the baby to let you know how long you have until it wakes up again.

I picture a gauge with a needle that can go from green to yellow to red.

Green -Baby will continue to sleep for some time. Take a nap, make dinner, take up knitting – you’ve got time.

Yellow – Baby is past half way point of nap.  Finish getting that dinner on the table, don’t bother taking a nap anymore and don’t forget to use the bathroom!

Red – Baby will wake at any moment!!! PANIC -Did you feed the other kids? Did you pee? Did you eat?

It would be brilliant, mothers everywhere would buy one.

If I had one of those I would know what to do now.

Usually Jane wakes up at this time of night.

Except for the night that she slept seven hours in a row.

Will she do it again? Will it be tonight?

Or if I go to sleep will she wake me up 15 minutes later?

I hate that.

I’m banking that her imaginary timer is yellow so I’ll stay up a bit longer and if I’m wrong and it’s actually green then I’m just depriving myself of good sleep.

It’s a conundrum.

I’m telling you, invent the baby timer and you’ll be a millionaire.

(And how come if an adult sees a baby yawn it makes them yawn but that same adult can yawn at the baby until their eyes water and it has no effect on the baby?)

I Don’t.

You know how you hear stories about women becoming unnaturally upset with their husbands while in labor?

I wasn’t.

He was reading aloud Peter Capstick’s accounts of water buffalo attacks, what’s to be upset about?

It seems more natural to be upset that John got to move and play and go places in the first week or so after Jane was born while I took care of her.

I wasn’t.

The desire to leave the house wasn’t even close to stronger than the desire to take naps with my new baby.

Perhaps a screaming fit could have occurred when faced with poopy diaper #5,689 with two year old helping and husband at company Christmas party.

I didn’t.

He deserved a night off after a few weeks of nonstop caring for all his girls.

When I’m  awake late at night with Jane while John sleeps…

I don’t.

So long as I don’t dwell on how I’ll feel the next day it’s often nice and peaceful up at night with Jane.

But when I’m awake late at night with Jane while John snores…

…I seriously consider grabbing his lower lip and pulling it over his head while screaming all sorts of irrational things and blaming him for the entire experience.

I don’t.

But perhaps I see what those women in labor are all about now.